


Tell Me.

by yavanei



Category: The Originals (TV), Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Incest, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 08:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yavanei/pseuds/yavanei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sister. He often called her. Yes. His sister. His blood.</p>
<p>    His.</p>
<p>    And his alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me.

The woman’s body fell limp to the floor. She wasn’t dead. Not yet, anyways.

Klaus glanced to Rebekah, seated on a nearby ottoman. Legs crossed. Mouth stained with blood from the man she’d just devoured and left crumpled against the wall. There was a heat still in her eyes. It wasn’t like her to be so quiet and patient.

“Do you want some?” Klaus gestured to the woman at his feet.

She simply shook her head.

Klaus let out a long, content, sigh and let his back drop to the bed.

“Nik.” Rebekah started.  

“Yes?”

“I’m still hungry.”

Klaus rolled his eyes, sitting up.

“I just offered you this one.” He kicked the woman’s arm with his boot. “Or would you prefer something else?”

Rebekah shot up from her seat, and in a flash Klaus was pushed back down on the bed. Rebekah was holding him down with one hand on his chest. The other she wrapped in his hair.

“How long has it been exactly, Niklaus?” She ran her hand down his chest, fingers lightly brushing his bare skin.

“Bekah…” Her name came out much hoarser than he meant it to. His skin was already on fire from her touch. He grabbed her hand forcefully, pulling it away. She let out a small gasp, his hand crushing her own – perhaps a bit harder than he intended.

Her lips curved into a smile.

“What’s wrong, Nik? Not in the mood?” She yanked her hand from his and lightly wrapped it around his throat.

“You used to like it rough. Surely you didn’t grow soft while I was rotting away in that coffin.”

His jaw tensed. She was trying to push his buttons. Rebekah always _loved_ to push his buttons.

“What do you want, Rebekah?” He asked, harshly.

This wasn’t something they did often, to say the least.

It had happened before, though. But there was always an unspoken agreement between them to not talk of it, and most of all to make sure Elijah never found out. It had been at least three hundred years or more. He remembered the last time he tried to touch her. She denied him. (He never really got over it)

“Do I need to spell it out, brother?” The word rolled off her tongue with a sick, laced, meaning.

_Brother._

_Sister._ He often called her. Yes. _His_ sister. _His_ blood.

_His._

And his alone.

His eyes met hers with a sudden ferocity. It was all she needed. Her fingers still entwined in his curls, gripped, and jerked his head to the side.

Her eyes turned blood red and she sank her fangs deep into his neck.

His hands were already on her waist, pulling her body flush against his. Her nails dug into his shoulders and in a gasp of euphoria she threw her head back, chuckling.

“You taste the same. Just as I remember.” She licked her lips, hungrily.

She was the only one ever allowed to drink from him like that. And when she ran a finger along his neck and licked it, purely for show, a shudder went through him.

He never wanted anything as much as he wanted her.

He never wanted anyone to own him, but she did.

She was straddling him, lazily circling patterns on his skin, a haze in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

In an abrupt, violent assault, he threw her against the wall. He exhaled, hot breath against her neck. Their eyes met for another moment, but before she could make another snarky comment he lost control.

He attacked her mouth with his, kissing her urgently, roughly. She parted her mouth and he thrust his tongue inside, coaxed her own into motion with his. His hand ripped her blouse apart (she would yell at him about this later) and his mouth went to her breast. Rebekah’s hands went back to his hair, tugging and pulling at it as moans escaped her.

His hand went up her skirt, his fingers desperately tugging at her panties – (he ended up ripping both of these too.)

She forced his mouth back to hers, eliciting a loud moan when his thumb found her clit. He bit her lip as he kissed her, drawing blood. Klaus greedily sucked at it, relishing in the way her body responded to his every motion.

Rebekah had never been shy in bed. She was loud; a force to be reckoned with.

When he pulled his hand back, she glared at the lost of contact. She switched positions with him, lightning quick, throwing him against the wall and shedding him of his clothes.

He forced her onto the floor, covering his body with hers.

The woman Klaus had been feeding on moments ago stirred next to them. Rebekah looked at her in annoyance. Klaus reached over and snapped the woman’s neck before turning back to the blonde goddess beneath him. Her long, curly hair splayed about her bare breasts.

She was a vision. No one would ever come close to her perfection.

“Sister,” He whispered.  Klaus covered her neck with kisses, continuing down past her breasts and stomach, not leaving a single spot untouched by his lips.

“Nik,” Rebekah moaned. She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding against him.

He stopped, suddenly. His hand caressed her cheek lovingly, but his eyes became dark and his body tensed above her.

 “Tell me.” His voice was deadly soft – frightening.  His hand suddenly wrapped around her throat.

 “Tell me you are mine. That you belong to me.” His fingers tightened.

“Nik, please.”

“Rebekah. Be a good girl.” His tone was playful, but they both knew he was anything but.

“Yes,” she pleaded, seeking release. “I belong to you. Always and forever.”

Klaus forced himself inside her.

It was only in these moments when he felt complete; whole. When he was inside her nothing else mattered. When he was inside her, she belonged to him - fully and completely. When he was inside her, he felt _alive._

He savored every thrust, every single moan that escaped her lips. When she screamed his name in the throes of her orgasm he felt in control. The way _she_ could make his name sound sent shivers down his spine.

He knew no one would ever pleasure her the way he could. Every single part of her was scorched into his memory, every single thing that made her tick. No one would ever know her like he knew her.

He was her brother, after all.


End file.
